


Sanity is Overrated

by purkledragon



Category: Weiss Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-04
Updated: 2010-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:29:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purkledragon/pseuds/purkledragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanity is in the eye of the beholder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanity is Overrated

It doesn't come as a sudden shock, it's more like a numb awareness that he only just begins to feel. He now realizes he is no longer, if he ever was, sane. Surely a sane man would not be having any sort of relationship with an enemy.

If you start thinking this is more than a mutual fuck up...

No, it's definitely fucked up, he knows that for a fact. There is nothing sane or normal about what happens between the two of them. And yet he keeps coming back, craving the very thing he should be running from. No one could possibly think he was sane.

I don't; I happen to think you're bat shit insane. Then again, I'm not exactly a shining example of normal thought and reason now am I?

They both know that, but he's here. Again. It's always his choice, or at least he thinks it is.

It is. Why the hell would I force what I can get for free? Besides, I prefer the fact that it kills you to be here of your own volition. You keep calling me, sweetheart.

It is insane. He is insane. That's all there is to it. There is no other rational explanation for this. And yet...

We're in a tacky cheap motel room completely fucking naked in a cramped little bed. You're sitting here, stroking my neck while fantasizing about strangling me with my own hair. I'm lying here letting you do it. You want to tell me which of the two of us is sane?

That one is obvious he thinks. This one is, if not saner, at least safer. He'll be stopped in time. No matter how good the solid pulse feels just under the too white skin. His thumb rubs across an old scar, one his wire cause sometime ago. Not this time, this way he'd be stopped.

What makes you think I'd stop you? What if I decide to just make it easier for you?

There's that wicked smile and laughter fills his head as Schuldig arches his back, neck lifting higher into his hands. So fucking tempting. So god-damned dangerous and it makes his blood run faster; makes him so hard as Schuldig just licks his lips, eyes rolling back into his head. God, he's so fucked.

"That can be arranged."

This is why he returns time and again.


End file.
